He was all too familiar with the disaster Madam Shyarly had predicted.
He had seen what happened to the kingdom of sin—the same terrible prophecy that came after a "God's daughter" fell—the first appearance of Behelit and the ensuing hideous plunge into cosmic horror.
Guts realized the enormity of the situation. He was aware, however, that hiding on Fish-Man Island would not save them.
They may be temporarily protected by the currents, but fate—far more unforgiving than any ocean—always left its mark.
Soon, the disaster would come after Robin.
Staying there would only bring ruin to the Ryugu kingdom.
He needs to meet with Rayleigh, the man known as the first mate of The Pirate King he heard from King Neptune, the same man who has something he needs desperately to protect Robin.
Suddenly, Guts felt something pulling at him, a familiar, irresistible tug into the depths of his soul.
Another stubborn soul.
One that had refused to move on, ever since the chaos of Borsalino's attack on Sabaody, clinging to him with a persistent, childish stubbornness.
He walked inside. It was a vibrant forest, alive with shimmering emerald leaves and dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy.
The air hummed with a gentle warmth, a stark contrast to the oppressive gloom of his waking life.
In the middle of a sunlit clearance, stood a dried, old tree with numerous holes, its gnarled branches reaching towards the sky.
The branches were filled with trinkets, colorful ribbons, shiny pebbles, and a child's crude drawings.
The ground around it was cluttered with toys: a collection of seashells arranged like jewels, a crudely carved wooden branch that served as a sword, a dented bucket worn as a helmet, and many more relics of a forgotten childhood.
There, in front of the largest hole in the tree's trunk, stood Kaka.
The brat.
The snotty brat.
He wore his bucket helmet, a blanket-like mantle draped over his small shoulders, and his braces-wrapped branch sword was proudly slung at his hip.
He stood like the self-proclaimed king of his castle, glaring out at the world from his makeshift base.
"What now, brat?"
Guts grunted, his internal voice echoing in the vibrant space.
If Kaka was going to ask him to peek at Robin again, he was going to beat him up.
Again.
Even as a soul, the kid was relentlessly annoying.
"It's not like that, ossan!"
Kaka said, instantly flustered, his ghostly cheeks flushing.
"I was just joking, okay?!"
Kaka shuffled his feet, then looked up at Guts, his young eyes holding an uncharacteristic seriousness.
"It's just... I always annoyed Robin. But... I actually care about her, you know?"
He huffed, a faint puff of childish indignation.
"I'm just... too shy. Annoying her was the only way to hide how shy I was."
His voice softened, drifting into memory.
"She was so small, ossan, even though we were the same age. And sometimes, she would cry alone, behind her aunt's house, when she missed her mother."
"You dirty little stalker."
Guts muttered, a flicker of annoyance, but he remained still, listening patiently.
The vibrant forest around them seemed to shimmer, reflecting the boy's memories.
"What did you know, ossan!"
Kaka retorted, a little growl in his voice. He spun on his heel and continued, his voice softer again.
"I remember once, Robin looked very sad. I asked Gramps Clover what made her sad, and I found out... it was because her cousin, that ugly Mizuira, didn't invite Robin to her birthday."
Kaka's shoulders slumped.
"So... I worked so hard. I wanted to buy her a cake. A really big one! To make her smile!"
"I collect firewood, carry vegetables to the market, and feed chickens. I want to make her smile, Ossan!"
His voice hitched.
"But then... that happened."
The vibrant forest around them seemed to dim, a collective sigh from the very air.
Kaka sniffed, a small, sorrowful sound, struggling to continue.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.
"I... I watched Robin. I watched her get kidnapped by that evil giant, that Saul. I already told her you know! He is a big meanie! I ran back to my castle," he pointed to the dried tree, "to get my helmet and my sword. I was going to chase after the evil giant. I was going to save her."
His voice became a desperate whisper. "But... I..... everything turned dark."
His small chest heaved, silent sobs wracking his spectral form.
"I regret it, Ossan," Kaka whispered between his desperate sobs and sniffs.
"I regret I couldn't protect Robin. I couldn't make her smile."
He looked up at Guts then, his ghostly eyes blurring with tears, but a faint smile began to spread on his face.
"But... but when I look at her now. When I saw how happy Robin was, playing with Shirahoshi... and how you, Ossan, are there to protect her..."
Kaka took a deep, shuddering breath, a profound peace washing over his features.
"I'm finally.....I finally... feels like going home."
He straightened his little blanket mantle, adjusting his bucket helmet.
"Just remember, Ossan," Kaka said, his voice regaining a touch of his old bratty confidence, "if you make her cry... I will come back. And you will feel my lightning-fast Sky Slasher!"
He brandished his branch sword with a surprisingly menacing flick of his wrist.
And with that final, defiant threat, Kaka's form began to shimmer, becoming translucent, then fading like mist in the sun, melting into the vibrant light of the forest. The space around Guts pulsed once, gently, then began to recede.
Guts finally opened his eyes.
He was back in the familiar, deep blue of the ocean, the currents rushing past them.
Above him, the water was rapidly growing lighter, a pale turquoise signaling the approaching surface.
They were moving, being pulled by the immense strength of Gargar, whose powerful tentacles' strokes sent frothing bubbles streaming past them.
Guts felt it.
The persistent soul inside him, the annoying, snotty brat who just wanted to protect his friend and make his friend happy, was finally at ease.
Guts reached up, tapping his heart twice with his gauntleted hand, a silent acknowledgement of Kaka's farewell.
But the sob could still be heard. It was soft, muffled, but undeniably present, carried by the rushing water.
Not from Kaka, whose spirit had found its peace.
It was from Robin, clinging tightly to a dolphin-like doll, her head bowed against her knees.
She was still feeling the poignant pangs of sadness from her recent, profound separation from Shirahoshi, the daughter of King Neptune, whom she had only just met, yet already loved like a child of her own.
Guts watched silently from the deck of their humble, newly coated ship, the massive form of Gargar steadily pulling them upwards through the shimmering currents.
The deep sapphire of the ocean around them slowly faded to a lighter, translucent turquoise, signaling their ascent towards the surface world.
Robin, still clinging to her dolphin doll, remained hunched, her small frame trembling with silent sobs, even as they breached the surface and the warm sun of the New World bathed them.
He let her grieve for a moment, the unusual display of emotion from her a rarity he'd learned not to interrupt carelessly.
But time was pressing.
"You're the one who wanted to leave quickly, kid," Guts finally grunted, his voice rough but not unkind.
Robin lifted her head, her face tear-streaked and puffy.
"But... but she is so small and sad, father!" she sniffed, her voice thick.
Small? Guts kept the thought to himself and kept listening.
Her sapphire eyes, usually so composed, welled up again.
"What happens when she wakes up and I'm not there? What if she cries again?"
The thought of Shirahoshi's innocent, vulnerable sorrow was clearly agonizing to her.
Hearing the raw anguish in her voice, Guts could only sigh, the sound a surprisingly soft exhalation from his formidable frame.
He reached out, his large, gauntleted hand settling gently on Robin's back, caressing it with an awkward tenderness that was uniquely his own.
It was all the comfort he could offer, and for Robin, it was enough.
A short time later, they landed on the Sabaody Archipelago.
True to form, Gargar, with a powerful, silent dive, immediately went to hide under the massive roots of the mangrove trees that formed the archipelago, ensuring he wouldn't scare the locals or draw unwanted attention to their humble ship, which he now guarded faithfully.
As they stepped onto the bubbling ground of Grove 17, the familiar scent of sea-salt and strange tree sap in the air, a figure detached itself from the shadows of a nearby bubble-coated building.
He was tall, lean, dressed in a sharp black suit, and wore a polite, almost too-perfect smile.
It was Potan.
Robin stopped short, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her face.
"Potan-san?" she murmured, her voice laced with confusion.
"What... what are you doing in Sabaody? Where have you been all this time?"
Potan had been a steady, almost comforting presence during her years on Shell Island, an amiable, village doctor.
To see him here, waiting for them, was completely unexpected.
Potan's smile widened, a practiced, almost professional gesture.
"I wished to speak with both of you," he said, his voice smooth and cultivated.
He led them towards a particularly ornate building near Sabody Park.
"L'Écume de Mer." The Seafoam Bloom was the crown jewel of Sabaody Archipelago's Grove 33, nestled high atop the tallest mangrove root, perched like a glass bubble between the branches.
The restaurant's structure itself was a living marvel: a massive, transparent Yarukiman Mangrove bubble, gently pulsing and shifting with the sea breeze, anchored by golden coral pillars and polished seashell platforms.
From the outside, it shimmered like a pearl, soft rainbow hues dancing across its surface, and guests arrived via coated gondolas pulled by flying fish, or by ascending through spiraling bubble-elevators.
"How fascinating!" Robin's eyes shine with childlike curiosity.
"Let me treat you to one of the most renowned restaurants in Sabaody. It is quite exquisite." Potan led them towards the elevator.
Inside, L'Écume de Mer blended aristocratic elegance with oceanic fantasy.
The floor was made of translucent coral glass, revealing the swaying seaweed forest below, sometimes lit by glowing deep-sea jellyfish.
Luminescent bubble-lights hovered lazily in the air, casting a soft, shifting glow across tables shaped like open clamshells.
Every chair was cushioned with sea sponge velvet.
They were led to a secluded, private booth, draped in luxurious fabrics.
Once they were seated, and a silent waiter had brought them sparkling water, Potan took a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket.
Took one for himself, then passed the rest to Guts.
He lit it and took a deep drag, then finally talked.
"My actual name," he began, his voice dropping to a low, formal business-like tone, "is not Potan. It is Guernica."
He paused, letting the name settle.
"And I am one of the World Government's agents. Specifically, a member of Cipher Pol. My duty, for many years, has been to watch over both of you."
Guts, already aware of this fact, merely helped himself with the cigarettes, his expression unreadable as he took a silent drag.
He knew. And he knew, too, that the man wasn't a threat—his brand had never stirred in his presence.
But Robin.
Her sapphire eyes widened, all of her excitement gone, and under the table, her hands clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms.
She had suspected, of course. She knew his name was a fake; she had known for years, her ability tell her that.
Yet, hearing him say it, confirming the betrayal, was a cold shock.
The sting was deeper because she also knew, with agonizing certainty, that Potan—Guernica—really did care about her.
He had often given her candy when she was still a child.
He had told her many kinds of bird species, describing their songs and migrations with genuine fascination.
He had brought her books, worn volumes of history and science, and had even taught her about medicine, patiently explaining anatomy and remedies.
He was a kind of teacher for her.
And he was in the very same agency that had killed her mother, Olvia.
The same organization that had erased her home from the map.
The bitter irony twisted in her gut.
Guernica looks at Robin and the shadow of her childhood.
"The Marine delegate has already arrived in Sabaody. They are here specifically to meet with you. I urge both of you... to accept what they offered."
He leaned across the table, his voice only for Guts to hear.
"Please, Guts. I beg you. Just this once. Please... believe in me once more."
His eyes, usually so guarded, now held a raw, exposed vulnerability.
"I swear to you, I never revealed anything about Nico Robin's unusual talent."
He paused, his gaze hardening with an urgency that spoke of dire consequences.
"This is it. The last opportunity the World Government will give. Please, accept it."
With that, he put out his cigarettes, and with a swift, practiced motion, he reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a stark, white, featureless mask, and placed it firmly over his face, instantly erasing all emotion.
The transformation was unsettling.
Without another word, he rose.
He paused only to address a startled waitress.
"These two are my esteemed guests," Guernica's voice, now muffled by the mask, was cold and authoritative.
"Ensure they receive the best service this establishment has to offer."
Then, with a curt nod, he left, vanishing through a discreet side door.
Silence descended upon their booth, thick with the weight of revelation and unspoken tension.
Guts knew exactly what Robin was feeling – the jarring collision of affection and betrayal, the agonizing realization that a source of comfort had also been an agent of her tormentors.
"I can take you to Shakky's Bar," Guts rumbled, his voice low, offering an immediate escape.
"You can wait there. I'll meet the delegate alone."
He was offering to shield her from the coming confrontation, to bear the weight of it by himself.
Robin, however, shook her head, a tremor running through her.
"No."
Her voice was soft but resolute.
She lifted her chin, her eyes, though still shadowed with pain, hardened with a familiar resolve.
"I want to be there with you, Father. I want to face this together."
She took a deep, steadying breath, pressing her clenched hands under the table, forcing herself to calm down.
The cold rage that usually served as her shield began to assert itself, pushing back the emotional turmoil.
She needed to be composed.
Whatever the World Government was offering, it came at a price, and she would face it with Guts by her side.
A few moments later, the clinking of heels on the polished floor signaled the arrival of new figures. The murmur of the restaurant faded as two powerful women, exuding an aura of authority, approached their secluded booth.
The first was Vice Admiral Tsuru, the "Great Staff Officer," her silver hair pulled back in its usual stern bun, her piercing gaze missing nothing.
Accompanying her was another prominent Marine.
This was Lieutenant Commander Gion, known widely by her alias Momousagi, the "Pink Rabbit."
She was a tall, striking woman with long, sleek, light-colored hair pulled back into a severe ponytail, and she wore a sharp, tailored pink suit that somehow conveyed both elegance and formidable strength.
Her demeanor was as composed as Tsuru's, though a faint, almost imperceptible air of weariness clung to her.
Tsuru offered a polite, almost surprisingly civil nod.
"Good morning, Nico Robin-san. Guts-san."
Her voice was calm, devoid of any accusatory or hostile tones.
Gion simply offered a brief, professional nod.
"We thank you for agreeing to this meeting," Tsuru continued, her eyes settling on Guts.
"Our purpose here is straightforward. The World Government, after much deliberation and at the behest of certain... influential parties, has decided to extend an offer. A final, extraordinary opportunity."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.
"If you accept our terms, Guts-san," Tsuru stated, her gaze unwavering, "the Higher Ups are prepared to revoke Nico Robin's bounty. Permanently."
The offer hung in the air, a breathtaking, almost unbelievable proposition that could shatter the chains of Robin's lifelong persecution.